


The Devil's Curse

by KUG



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Magic, Tazzy Chris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:46:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KUG/pseuds/KUG
Summary: A young PrinceA curse brought by fangs and bloodA maiden with a giftAnd thus this tale begins, as twisted threads come unraveled and what was once dark is exposed to the light





	1. Cursed by a Devil

Once upon a time, in the distant kingdom of Wilderlands there was a wise and mighty king who had two sons who were also growing up to be wise and mighty. Strong in both minds and hearts, the princes were inseparable, though by age they were several years apart, and they spent almost every waking moment side by side. Prince Martin was tall and fair, with eyes as blue as the sea he loved, and his younger brother Prince Christopher was slim and strong and had a gaze like the heart of the forest. Together they went on many an adventure, but always returned to their home in the kingdom capitol to continue learning and ruling honestly.

One day the princes went out to ride in the woods, as they often did. Laughing and joking between them, they lost their retainers in a race through the trees. Soon, however, they found themselves in a very dark part of the forest. It was a place where the air seemed cold in the noonday heat of summer and all the animals crept through as quiet as mice. Even the great cats that roamed the forest would lower their heads and creep like insects through that place.

Looking worried, Prince Martin reigned in his steed. “Perhaps we should go back to the rest of our party,” he spoke up, warily looking through the trees.

Prince Christopher gazed at the wood around them and the hair crawled on his neck and arms. “I agree,” he said, “this wood is not friendly.”

Swiftly they turned their horses’ heads to leave and the animals pranced and pawed, champing at the bit to leave. But scarcely had they begun their journey homeward when a looming dark creature sprang upon them. Screaming, the horses bucked and kicked, but the beast had already dragged down the younger of the two princes, clamping its slavering jaws around his chest.

With a cry of fear for his brother, Prince Martin leapt from his horse, drawing his sword as he went and flinging off his cloak. He struck the beast a mortal blow on the shoulder as it pinned his brother to the loam, and it roared and released the Prince. As he gathered his wounded brother into his arms, Prince Martin was shocked to realize that the beast was howling in a human tongue.

“I ache I ache!” it cried, “but it is too late, it is already too late for you, young Prince of Wilderlands!”

“What do you mean?” demanded Prince Martin, filled with dread.

The beast laughed, an ugly sound that chilled the bones, and when it turned to the two Princes they saw with horror that the beast now had the face of a man. With teeth stained red, he grimaced at them. “I have been cursed,” he said, “to be a Devil of the forest. Now, at long last, I have rid myself of it but alas, I will die anyway!”

“Cursed! How?” cried Prince Christopher, and his voice was pained.

With another terrible chuckle, the devil raised his hand and pointed to the wound in the Prince’s chest. “There,” he said, “I have bitten you. In a few days’ time you will begin to change. The world will no longer love or accept you as you are, and you will be cursed to live in a horrible form until you die.”

“How can that be true,” Prince Martin asked, “when you yourself said to have ridden yourself of the curse!”

“Since you freed me from my suffering as much as your brother, O blue eyed Prince of the sea, I will tell you how you can be free of it. The only way is to pass on the curse to curse another as I have done to you."

“Surely there’s another way!” Prince Martin said, “he could never do that!”

“There is one way,” admitted the devil, “but it would be easier for you to do as I explained to you. The other way to be rid of the curse is to have it broken by one with a curse-breaking magic.”

And at that the brothers paled, for curse-breaking was the rarest form of magic in the land, and often the curse breaking could go awry and kill the one who had been cursed.

“So you see,” said the devil, “that it is indeed best to do as I first said.” Then he grimaced in great pain. “Now my time is done,” he groaned, “thank you, my Princes.” And then he fell to the loamy forest floor, free from both curse and life.

Distraught, the Princes managed to stumble out of that evil forest, Prince Martin carrying his wounded brother most of the way. When they reached the rest of their party, all that Prince Martin told them was that Prince Christopher had been attacked by a wild beast. Swiftly they rushed back to the castle.

For three days and nights Prince Christopher was wracked with fever and delirium from the wound and in all that time his brother scarcely left his side. But it began to heal and when he showed no sign of turning savage, the Princes breathed sighs of relief.

On the fifth night since that day in the forest, the curse appeared.

As Prince Martin slept with his head by his brother’s side, Prince Christopher woke with a cry, his body shaking all over. Leaping up, Prince Martin held his brother tightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s the curse!” Prince Christopher gasped, and suddenly he began to writhe as his body underwent a terrible change. Fur sprouted from his body, springing up into a great dark ruff around his throat and shoulders, and a tail grew from his spine. Claws appeared at the ends of his fingers and toes, and his teeth turned to fangs.

When the change was over he lay like dead in his brother’s arms, afraid to even move and discover what had happened to him. “Martin,” he rasped, “Is it truly terrible?”

His heart breaking for his brother’s pain, Prince Martin only held him closer. “No, dear Chris, it isn’t! You’re still my brother, and nothing in the world can change that!”

At that Prince Christopher began to weep from fear and regret, and feeling his brother’s pain as keenly as if it were his own, Prince Martin wept with him.

When dawn broke, the change reversed, leaving the younger Prince the same as before. But it returned again before sunset. Afraid of what the rest of the palace would say, the King gave orders that only the physician, Prince Martin, or himself were allowed in Prince Christopher’s chambers, and he told the palace that his son was deathly ill.

The transformation happened often, and with no warning, leaving the Prince shaken each time because of the abruptness of it. After a fortnight he couldn’t stand it anymore and because of his continual weeping and distress, Prince Martin begged their father to allow Prince Christopher to rid himself of the curse.

The King agreed readily, and that night a hapless youth from the dungeons was locked in a small room for the Prince to give the curse to. The next time the change came over him, Prince Christopher went into the room, requesting that no one approach until he emerged.

Prince Martin waited impatiently the entire night, pacing and wringing his hands.

Very early in the morning, before the birds had begun to sing, the door opened slowly. Rushing forwards, Prince Martin saw who stood there and fell to his knees with a wail of distress, pulling his cloak around his brother. Prince Christopher crawled out of the room, bleeding from a dozen wounds.

“I couldn’t do it,” he whispered. “I fought with myself all night.”

“It’ll be all right, Chris,” Prince Martin assured him, and once again held his younger brother tightly against his chest and wept into his hair.

The King told his country that Prince Christopher had died from his terrible wound, and every citizen mourned for days and wore black to respect the memory of their dead Prince, for he was beloved for his cleverness and kindness.

But deep within the castle, the Prince hid himself away from all eyes except those of his brother, the king, and the hapless youth who had almost been his victim and his savior, a lad by the name of Jimmy.

And Prince Christopher resolved to never be seen and feared by the people who had once loved him so dearly.


	2. The Curse-Breaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on having Aviva be the heroine in this fic, but I decided that Koki needed more love, plus Aviva will still end up being important to the plot later on.

She was a nameless nobody, standing in front of a court full of people with many names, names far more important than her whole life. There were stares on her and whispers, and the court rustled with movement; jewels flashed and sparkled, silk and satin shimmered. They were weighing her worth and her value on the clothes she wore, simple homespun wool and sturdy leather boots. She didn’t belong here and didn’t _want_ to be here in the first place.

But Koki held her head high, eyes forward towards the throne where the king sat. He too, was weighing her, his noble head tilted down to look at her. Out of respect, she did not look him in the eye, but she was not going to lower her head.

Strangely, the king seemed to be waiting for something. The entire court was a soft murmur as their ruler sat in silence, only his clear blue eyes taking in the simple woman who stood on the sparkling marble floors before him.

“Why doesn’t he say something?”

Koki heard a soft murmur and out of the corner of her eye she could see a well-dressed nobleman tapping his foot impatiently. His slicked back hair was as black as his satin tunic, and the only color that graced his dark clothes was a slash of red in the shape of a V on his right breast; the lord of the western region then, Varmitech.

“There are more important things to do than stare down at a _commoner_ ,” Lord Varmitech whispered snidely to a lady near him.

Koki winced inwardly. As much as she tried to brush off comments like that, hearing such venom from the mouth of a nobleman in front of her still stung.

“We’re waiting on the Prince,” murmured back Lord Varmitech’s companion. “You know he needs to be here for this.”

“Well, he’s late,” snipped back the lord. “And why is Prince Martin so interested in curse-breaking anyway?”

“Who knows…. Look, here he comes!”

A rising noise of excitement washed over the crowed and Koki looked to see where the heads were turning, towards a high, open window in the westward wall. Right as she was turning to see, a large bird of prey swooped in, wings half tucked in a slow, gliding dive. Once clear of the window, it unfurled its wings and fanned the air, talons extended to land gracefully on the dais to the right side of the king’s throne. Koki could see sky blue feathers among the gray and white plumage.

As soon as its wings were tucked the bird began to shimmer, its form rippling into a mass of bluish light. Koki blinked, and in that split second, the bird had unfurled itself into the Prince of Wilderlands.

The court hushed slightly at his appearance, and Koki completely understood them, holding her breath herself. She’d never seen wild magic used before and she could feel that it was far more powerful and beautiful than she could have imagined from the tales that were passed around among travelers.

Prince Martin bent slightly at the waist in a bow towards his father, who smiled at his son and waved a hand in acknowledgement of the courtesy.

“Welcome, my son,” he said, “we have been waiting quite patiently for your return.”

“My apologies my lord,” Prince Martin replied, a tiny smile touching the corners of his mouth. Then he turned and his gaze fell on Koki, still standing with lifted head in the middle of the court.

Instantly she felt pinned by his eyes, which were an even more piercing blue than his father’s. With his head tilted slightly and his broad shoulders thrown back straight and proud, Koki couldn’t help but think that he still looked a lot like the bird of prey he had just transformed from.

“You there,” he said, voice projecting across the room to pin her just as effectively as his eyes. “Welcome.”

There was just a slight hint in his words. Immediately Koki realized her blunder and hurried to bow deeply to him. When she straightened, the Prince was descending from the dais to approach her. He stopped directly in front of her, his bright eyes studying her face intently. From this close, Koki could see delicate earrings made from pale blue sapphires dangling from his ears, twinkling as they danced and caught the light.

“You are the curse-breaker, Koki, are you not?” he asked much more quietly now that he was face to face with her.

And this is why she didn’t want to be here.

“I am not,” she said, so quietly that she was afraid he hadn’t heard her.

“What?” Prince Martin demanded, leaning closer into her space.

“I am not the curse-breaker any longer,” Koki said, a little bit louder this time. “I’m just Koki.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, frowning.

Koki couldn’t meet his gaze anymore and she looked down at the swirling pattern in the marble floors. “I _was_ a curse-breaker, that much is true,” she explained, “but I myself have been cursed and I can’t use my breaking magic until I find the curse’s undoing.”

“Ah.” He didn’t sound mad, and when Koki dared to look up, he only looked a tiny bit disappointed. “That’s most unfortunate. I heard your magic was the best curse-breaking that has ever been known in the kingdom.”

“Yes…” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

He waved a hand to casually dismiss her apology. “It’s not your fault. However, may I make an offer to you?”

Koki blinked. An offer? What was that supposed to mean? Why was he offering her something? She started, realizing that she’d been staring blankly at him. “O-of course your highness,” she stammered, looking back at the floor.

“I would like to invite you to join the palace scholars here,” Prince Martin said. A rustle of whispers erupted around the court at that. The place of a palace scholar was immensely enviable, and few were ever chosen.

“W-why would you offer something like that to me?” Koki blurted out, jerking back up to face him.

Immediately his expression became troubled. “Because you seem like a wise magician, and I’m sure our library would have some helpful information on how to find the curse’s undoing.”

Pressing her lips together tightly, she slowly shook her head. “No, your highness,” she said softly, “I can’t accept your offer.” Another shocked whisper rippled through the court at her refusal, but Koki ignored it. “I am immensely grateful for the chance, your highness, but it wouldn’t be able to help me, I’m afraid.”

“How dare she?” hissed a voice on the edge of her hearing, and this time Koki turned her head enough to actually catch the gaze of Lord Varmitech, who looked surprised by the tiny scowl she sent his way.

Suddenly a hand gripped her forearm, and Koki jerked in surprise, whipping around to face the Prince one again.

He was very close this time, so close that she could see the faint flecks of green in his eyes, and his hand was tight on her arm. She shrank back a bit, suddenly terrified of what a man with wild magic would be able to do with her; she couldn’t even curse him or she would surely be put to death.

“Please, you’re my best chance,” he whispered, voice so soft that it could only be heard by the two of them, but so desperate that Koki froze. She stared into his eyes and saw beyond the mask of cool indifference he was wearing to a deep desperation that floored her with its intensity.

Almost as soon as he had said the words, Prince Martin released her again and nodded at someone off to the side.

“Very well,” he said, “I understand. I’m sorry that we could not be of use to one another.”

Her head spinning from the extreme whiplash of his conflicting actions, Koki allowed a chamberlain to touch her elbow and guide her out of the courtroom. The rustling whispers of the crowd blurred together and her feet suddenly felt heavy, though she didn’t know why. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at the prince one more time.

He was still standing and watching her be escorted out, but his eyes still had a hint of pleading that was so heartbroken and hopeful that Koki’s own heart gave a painful thump in her chest. Then Prince Martin turned his head away and the profile he made no longer looked like a noble bird of prey, but just a lonely man whose last hope had been snatched away.


	3. A Dead Prince is Still a Prince

“Your highness, why do you still wear those earrings?”

Chris sighed. “Jimmy, just call me Chris, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“Sorry…Prince Chris.”

“We’ll work on it.” He reached up and touched one of dangling emerald earrings, the stone cool against his blessedly human fingers. “To tell you the truth,” he said softly, “I wear them to remind me that I’m still a Prince; that I’m not totally a monster.”

“Prince Chris…” Jimmy sighed. “You’re not a monster. Period.”

He didn’t respond to that, just drew his knees to his chest and leaned his head against the cool stone wall. The two of them were sitting across from each other on a padded bench against the wall beside the window. Chris longed to see the sunlight, but in the middle of the day he couldn’t open the curtains for fear that somehow someone would see him. He was supposed to be _dead,_ not hiding in a secret suite of rooms in an almost forgotten tower of the castle, so he couldn’t possibly be seen.

“Jimmy,” he spoke up again, not looking at his companion, “Don’t you ever want to leave? Why do you stay here when we offered to let you go?”

“Because I’m better off here,” he replied stubbornly, and Chris looked up to see Jimmy with a stern expression on his face. “I was in the palace prison for trying to steal food, and I would have been severely punished if I hadn’t been pulled out to receive your curse.”

The Prince winced at that. “But now you stay here, in the dark with a prince who’s _dead_. And not just that, but I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster.”

Chris scowled and looked at the floor. “How do you explain the claws and fur then?” he asked bitterly. “How do you explain the way I can hear your heartbeat and that crawl around on all fours? How do you explain that my own magic won’t even work?”

“Your highness!” Jimmy said, tone exasperated despite the formality of his words, “You’re under a _curse_. Being a monster and being cursed are two entirely different things. And your brother is looking nonstop for a way to break it.”

Chris didn’t respond, but let his head drop to rest it on his knees with a sigh. “Whatever you say Jimmy.”

Jimmy reached out and patted him timidly on the shoulder; sometimes he was still reluctant to treat the Prince like a friend, even after the year and a half they’d spent together in these small rooms.

Abruptly Chris uncurled himself and hunched over with a gasp. Jimmy didn’t even move his hand, instead tightening his fingers to increase Chris’s awareness of his contact. Fur sprouted around Chris’s throat and his ears elongated as his body shook all over. The transformation rarely hurt, but it was always a bit of a shock to his body, and Jimmy’s presence helped to ground him while it took place.

Panting, Chris shook his head and straightened up slightly. Furiously he shot to his feet, shedding the loose robes he wore so that all his black fur was visible. “See,” he snarled, looking and sounding all the more vicious for the long fangs that poked from under his lip, “ _This_ is what keeps me here, why the kingdom needs to think that I’m dead! How would they react if their beloved Prince was secretly a monster, a monster who had no control over when he changed and sometime not even how he acted? I _am_ a monster.”

Jimmy sat still on the bench, eyes unblinking as his calm blue gaze met Prince Chris’s wild brown one. Slowly he stood and moved to stand in front of Chris, then knelt, lowering his head.

“Whatever you say,” he said calmly, “You’re still the Prince, second in line to the throne, and _my_ leader, your highness.”

Chris caught his breath, staring down at Jimmy’s bowed head, and a lump rose in his throat. “Stand up,” he said gruffly after a moment, trying to hide the pinch in his voice, “I may be your prince, but you’re also my friend and I don’t want you bowing and scraping.”

Lifting his head and standing, Jimmy grinned. “Wasn’t much of a bow,” he said cheekily, “more like a kneel. _Way_ more respectful. But hey, I _wasn’t_ scraping.”

Chris found himself chuckling at Jimmy’s pert response, and he reached up to touch one of the emerald earrings that still hung in his ear. “Of course you weren’t,” he agreed, and smiled a real, honest smile.


	4. Met in Moonlight

Silver light from the waxing three-quarter moon spilled into the dark hallway, giving off enough of a glow for Koki to walk without tripping over anything. This far into the castle, this late at night, there were not even any lit torches, though every several paces there would be another unlit torch set into a wall bracket. Not even light-weavers had left their little guide-lights that came on in the night. This particular spire was obviously unused.

Koki liked that.

She’d been working here in the castle for about two weeks now, having been too haunted by the hopeless look in Prince Martin’s eyes to leave. She still swore and gave herself harmless curses every day for being pulled into this place when she hated it here so much, but she kept on working.

She hadn’t known where to go to get employment, because curse magic wasn’t really a useful magic for the routine of daily cleaning, cooking, and maintenance. But after some wandering and getting vague suggestions from castle staff, she managed to find herself in a cramped little office with a steward of some sort. He was distracted, stressed, and absolutely surrounded by stacks of papers and heavy ledgers.

“Yes, yes, what now?” he’d snapped as she stepped in.

Affronted by his tone, Koki replied calmly nonetheless. “I was sent here. I’m looking for work.”

At that he lifted his head and finally looked at her. He frowned. “Do you have any sort of book magic?”

Reluctantly, she shook her head. “Curse magic.”

“Ah. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t have any use for that.”

He ducked his head back to the ledge her was looking at and Koki’s heart sank. This had been the last suggestion and she was tired of wandering around the castle trying to find people. She turned away, about to head for the door.

“Actually,” he spoke up again, “if you’re a curse magician, can you break a little curse for me?”

Again Koki shook her head as she turned back to him. “Sorry, I can’t. It’s a long story.”

The steward sighed. “Oh well. I’ve been hoping someone would come along with curse-breaking magic to fix this annoying little curse that one of my _dear friends_ prepared for me.”

Koki raised an eyebrow. “From your tone I suspect they aren’t really a friend.”

Again, he sighed. “No. Robert is a scribe here, and he delights in tormenting me in little ways from time to time. He got someone to curse all the ink in here so that it blots at inopportune moments. I don’t want to throw it out because it isn’t exactly cheap, but it’s getting to the point where I’ll get in trouble soon.”

At that Koki perked up. “Actually, I think I could help you.”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her. “How?”

Koki actually grinned. “I’m sure it’s just a tiny little curse. I can place a bigger one on it that will cause the first curse to backfire onto Robert the next time he uses some. And it’ll stick for a while.”

The steward suddenly smiled back at her, a particularly devious smile. “That sounds delightful. But there is an issue: how do I get Robert in here to use _my_ ink? He knows what it does.”

Koki shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe you should boast of perfectly clear running ink and he’ll get annoyed and check it for himself. Bullies don’t like to have their plans foiled and will surely check to make sure it’s still in place.”

The steward smiled broader, showing his teeth. “Well, well, curse magician, if you help me, I can find a way to help you.”

Thrusting out a hand, she said, “it’s a deal.”

They shook on it, and that was that.

Koki’s plan worked, and Robert was a very confused and ink-stained man for a few days until the curse wore off. For her trouble, the steward hired her to run documents. There were libraries and storage rooms and higher offices where ledgers and lists needed to be stored, used, or looked over, and the messenger boys who were supposed to run the documents were young and often lazy. Koki took on the job willingly, and in no time she had figured out the basic layout of the castle and it sprawling maze of rooms and halls and she could run easily up stairs with a stack of ledgers in her arms without stopping to dally and talk. When she wasn’t ferrying ledgers, she would stay with the steward in his cramped office and help him to organize everything. She put anti-curse protections around so that Robert couldn’t get revenge, and the steward held her in high regard for that fact alone.

Others in the castle caught wind of her curse magic and how it’d helped out the secretary, and sometimes people would come to ask Koki if she could twist a curse around to get rid of it. Often she could, but occasionally she wasn’t able to help. Still, word of a curse-magic user spread throughout the castle workforce, and on occasion she had to flatly refuse people who wanted her to curse something or someone. She refused to put a real, threatening curse on anything or anyone.

But when she wasn’t busy, she would stretch out on the floor to nap, feet propped up on a stack of ancient ledgers that were supposed to be sent to be burned but somehow never did. Often she could get an hour or two of undisturbed rest, which left her feeling well-rested enough to explore the castle after hours.

Currently, she was making her way through a little used hall. Though the shutters were not closed, she could tell from the lack of guide-lights that it was unused. Some of the lower floors had the occasional guide-light floating beside a door, but the further up she went, the quieter and more dusty the tower became.

Koki smiled to herself as she walked soft-footed up the stairs. She liked to explore quiet places in the night, as long as there were no bats; she didn’t like bats one bit. Squeezing her small book tightly against her stomach, she started looking for a comfortable alcove to sit and read by moonlight. It was a tiny little book she’d found in the library, and the subject was curse magic, which was not easy to find. She was hoping to find _something_ that could help her get rid of her own curse.

The silence was only broken by the soft scuff of her soft leather boots on the stone and the whisper of her skirt, with the hem half-tucked into her belt. There wasn’t even the scratch of a mouse or the flutter of sparrows that sometimes got inside. Koki spotted a wide window with a broad inner ledge and it looked good enough for her purposes. Right across from her was an alcove with a dusty banner partly obscuring it, which might be helpful in case someone came along who didn’t want her moving around this late at night.

Settling down, Koki angled herself to rest the book on her knees directly in the shaft of moonlight. As she opened it and started to read, she was delighted to find that the print inside was small but very neat and quite legible even in the moonlight. She quickly became absorbed in her reading.

She was so focused that the first time she heard the footstep, she barely noticed it. The second time she stopped, wondering what had disturbed her reading. Then there was another, very close, and Koki’s heart jumped into her throat.

She shut the book and hardly dared to move, straining her ears for the sound.

There. Another soft step, like fine leather on stones, and now she heard a second sound, the soft rustle of a cloak dragging the ground. It wasn’t a guard then. Who could possibly be up here at night besides herself?

Koki dared to turn her head, hearing the steps come closer and closer. They were from higher up in the tower, descending down the slightly sloped hallway towards the window where she sat. Silently, she squeezed herself back into the corner of the ledge, where her shadow wouldn’t be as visible.

But she was still noticed, and she heard the steps stop.

The silence was so thick that she could have bitten it.

Koki couldn’t sit here for so long without a sound; someone was going to have to move. As the stillness stretched longer and longer, she gave up and decided to be the first to move. Quickly she rolled out of the deep window ledge, hopping down with feet planted facing the other person.

“Who’s th…”

Her question died in her throat as she caught sight of the figure.

It was clad in a dark cloak, part of the hood obscuring the face, but moonlight was streaming through another window so that a tiny sliver of their face was visible. The skin was lighter than Koki’s but the eyes and hair looked as dark as midnight in the moon’s glow.

For a moment Koki and the stranger stared at one another, eyes wide, bodies stiff with surprise. The stranger must have twitched their head slightly, and moonlight glittered off of something dangling from their ear. Then the cloaked stranger abruptly whirled and ran, cloak fluttering wildly in the wind of their passing. The stranger reached the stairs and vanished up them.

Suddenly Koki’s knees felt a little weak from all the excitement and she wobbled back to the window ledge and sat down. Who on earth could that have been? And why did they retreat further up the tower? Well, any way she looked at it _she_ wasn’t really supposed to be here so late at night, so she had better make herself scarce.

Tucking the book under her belt, Koki swiftly and silently made her way down and out of this section of the castle. Her own thoughts about the stranger pursued her the entire way. She made her way back to her tiny quarters and lay down to sleep, but it was a long time in coming as questions whirled through her mind. One thought in particular kept slipping quietly back to her.

Whoever it was had been wearing earrings, and the only person that Koki could think of was Prince Martin.


	5. Two Types of Torture

Martin shut the door softly behind himself and opened his mouth to call out, but was rudely interrupted by his brother barreling out of a nearby doorway. At the moment he was not in his cursed state but he still looked a bit wild-eyed as he gripped his elder brother’s forearms.

“There was someone in the tower last night,” he hissed before Martin could even draw a breath.

“What?” he spluttered eloquently.

“Last night,” Chris repeated, releasing Martin’s eyes with a harried look, “I froze and I think she saw me. Then I just panicked and ran. I was too scared to come back out.”

“She?” Martin asked, “She who?”

“I don’t know! I never see people when I’m out, I have no idea.”

Martin could tell that Chris was still worked up about it and he reached out and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “Chris, take a breath, slow down. Describe her to me.”

Chris sucked in a long, slow breath. “Okay. I don’t know if you’d recognize her, she looked like staff.”

Rolling his eyes, Martin squeezed Chris’s shoulders. “Oh brother, I pay more attention than you’d think. Castle staff is very important and I make a point to try and remember as many of them as I can.”

Chris waved a hand. “Right, right, I forget. Well, she.... She looked like she was from the southwest region: black hair—very curly—and dark skin.”

With a frown, Martin finally let go of his brother’s shoulders. “I don’t think that we have a lot of staff like from that area, and not many women. What else do you remember? Did she say something?”

“Yes, I think she started to call out ‘who’s there’ but she saw me.”

“What did she sound like?”

Chris gave Martin a confused look. “Why is that important?”

“You remember that curse-breaker I told you about? This might be her, though I didn’t know she’d stayed at the castle.”

“Well, I don’t quite know how to describe it but…. Oh, she had earrings, two rings and a large white stone in each ear.”

Suddenly Martin’s troubled expression cleared. “That’s her! Her name is Koki.”

“Koki…” Chris rolled the name around on his tongue, thinking hard about it.

“Yes. I sensed that she’s honest and kind. She could read me very easily too.”

“I was too startled to get a sense of her,” Chris admitted. “But she was too so I doubt she could either.”

Grinning, Martin clapped his hands together. “This is wonderful! I thought she’d left for sure! I’ll find her and try to talk to her again. If she stayed, maybe she’d rethinking what I said to her. If she can study and find a way to undo her own curse, then she’ll be able to break yours!”

Chris’s brown eyes lit with hope. “That is good news! But we can’t tell her why yet.”

“I know I know,” Martin said, and slung an arm around his brother’s neck, “But still! She’s still here! This is the best chance we’ve had yet!”

Chris was almost vibrating with excitement under Martin’s arm. “I wish I could meet her.”

“Maybe!” Martin gave his brother a playful shake. “That’ll have to wait and see until after I can talk with her.”

 

* * *

 

Taking off the simple gold circlet, Martin ran a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. He’d be seeing the curse-breaker Koki soon, but he’d had to go through a long line of other guests first, and he was wound-up like a coiled spring, irritation and forced politeness tensing his body in all the wrong places and making him more tired than he ought to be. As he flicked wayward strands of hair into place, he thought about going out for a nice long fly after he was done speaking to Koki; stretching his wings would be good for him.

There was a knock on the door and he quickly placed the circlet back on his head and adjusted his hair. “Enter,” he called out, strong but level.

The door swung open and two guards entered, trailed by the dark-haired curse magician. She looked towards the Prince with sharp brown eyes. The sparkled with surprise, and Martin realized that she must have not been told who had summoned her.

“Welcome,” Martin said, inclining his head.

“Your highness,” she replied evenly, bowing deeply and promptly. Around her the guards also bowed.

When they’d straightened, Martin nodded towards the door. “You may leave us.”

“But your highness!” protested the older of the two men.

Martin gave them a reassuring but convincingly regal smile and pulled his shoulders back a little. “I am capable of defending myself on my own,” he told them, “The sword at my hip isn’t just for show.”

“But she’s…she’s a curse magic user,” said the other guard, “She could curse you!”

“I don’t think she will,” Martin said, and turned a meaningful look to Koki. She’d seen his wild magic before, and she must have some idea how powerful it was, so she wasn’t at all likely to try any curses out on him.

The guards looked like they were going to make one more attempt at protesting, but then saluted and bowed to the Prince and left.

Koki watched the door for a moment after it had closed, then looked back towards Martin and crossed her arms; the gesture almost looked defensive. “So, highness, what did you wish to speak with me about?”

Martin smiled disarmingly, and saw another flicker of surprise and guardedness in her eyes. “I didn’t know you’d decided to stay and work in the castle,” he said delightedly.

Her mouth quirked into a wry smile. “I couldn’t leave, apparently,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Well, that’s your fault,” she shot back bluntly, then blushed furiously as she remembered who she was talking to and ducked into a bow. “I apologize for my rudeness your highness!”

But Martin, who’d blinked in surprise at her straightforward answer, burst into a deep peal of laughter. “Oh, no, you’re quite all right!” he chuckled, “I can’t be mad when I’m so delighted to have someone talk to me like a normal human.”

Koki cautiously raised her head. “Your highness…?”

“Just call me Prince Martin,” he said, brushing her formality aside. “But anyway, why is it my fault?”

At that Koki looked down at the floor again and worried her lip with her teeth. After a long pause, she murmured, “That look you gave me, as I was leaving. I couldn’t help but get the sense that you were …desperate.”

Martin’s humor fell away slightly and he too left a long pause in the conversation. “In a manner of speaking, yes,” he said after a long moment. He shrugged off the subject again, “I hear that you’ve been working with a steward down in the scribe rooms and you’ve garnered a good reputation.”

“Yes, Prince…Prince Martin,” she replied, stumbling over his title.

“You can keep working as long as you want,” he said, “don’t be worried about that. I also got wind that you’ve been wandering around the castle at night.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Koki’s eyes flooded with worry, but for once her entire body language revealed nothing. “On occasion,” she admitted slowly, “and mostly to learn the castle layout when there are less people in the way. It helps when I’m delivering documents.”

“Of course,” Martin acknowledged.

There was yet another long pause, and then Koki’s eyes roved over his ears. “Are you the only one who wears that type of earring in this castle?” she asked, then immediately looked like she wanted to sink into the floor.

Martin started at the question, his hand reaching up almost unconsciously to brush against the sapphire stones that dangled from his ears. “To my knowledge, yes,” he said slowly, “These are old, royal heirlooms.”

“What about your brother?” Koki asked, then again she looked shocked by her own words, except this time she visibly paled and shrank back; the words had obviously burst unbidden from her mouth.

Martin’s old bitterness rose to fill his throat like bile and he turned partly away from the woman. “My brother,” he said, even more slowly than before, “has been dead for more than a year.”

“I-I apologize Prince Martin,” she stammered, voice small and almost trembling. Then, “You loved him a lot.”

“Like nothing else in this world,” he said.

“I lost family too.”

Martin turned his head to look at her, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze. “Then you understand that it’s like the sun was ripped from the sky, don’t you?” She nodded. He turned away again. “Don’t speak of him again.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you stopped wandering the halls after hours,” he proceed brusquely, “But you may have free access to the library whenever you wish.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

“Thank you for speaking with me. You may go.”

She bowed without a word and slipped out the door like a mouse. As soon as the latch clicked home, Martin slumped into the chair that stood near him. That sudden turn in the conversation had startled him and had taken out a lot more than he’d thought it would.

Pretending that Chris was dead had taken a toll on him, and it really _had_ felt like the sun had been torn away from him. Spending his days without his brother by his side was torture; they’d always been together through almost every aspect of their lives, and even slept in the same chambers where they could sit up late into the night talking and laughing. They used to fly together or run through the forest as wolves, howling and scuffling with one another, but now Martin flew and swam alone and most nights he ran as a lone wolf, slinking and quiet in his own forests.

He rubbed his face, the motion shoving his circlet askew on his head. He heaved a sigh. That Koki’s skill as a curse-breaker couldn’t be used was almost the same torture as seeing his brother every day. Both were a torment where something that he desired was close enough to touch but at the same time so very far out of reach. Koki couldn’t break Chris’s curse, and Chris was locked away almost all the time while Martin continued his duties as a prince. Angry, despairing thoughts crowded into Martin’s mind, trailing with them the memories of ‘burying’ his brother, of wearing black for months and feeling like he needed to, despite seeing Chris every morning.

Martin stood quickly, the chair almost falling over at the movement. He strode to the door and yanked it open. The guards were all at attention, as usual.

“I’m going out,” Martin announced roughly, then stepped back into the room and ran to leap out of the window. He heard a chorus of protests trail off behind him as power spread through his body, stretching his fingers into long fine bones and feathers took the place of hair and clothes to protect his body from the rushing wind.

He angled his wings and swooped low over the castle’s inner walls, then rose on an updraft until the castle was small beneath his talons. There was only the wind in his ears and the sun on his wings and Martin’s heart soared higher than his body. Just for the moment he could be content and free of his thoughts and worries.

Banking sharply, he soared off over the sea, leaving his responsibilities behind for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick explanation on the difference between breaking and undoing a curse: A curse's undoing is like a loophole/ending that was woven into the curse from the beginning; it's a condition that must be met for the curse to lift naturally. Breaking a curse is forcefully lifting or removing it and if done wrong it can have disastrous consequences.
> 
> So Koki's curse has a natural condition that she is able to meet to get rid of it. Chris's curse has no undoing in it whatsoever, and can only be passed on (which is not something that is in every curse, just specific to his) or broken. That's why Koki is so important; she has a huge reputation for being a good and safe curse-breaker, but right now she's under curse too, so everyone is kind of at a stalemate.
> 
> Anyway, on writing Martin's thoughts, I really just imagined how I'd feel if one of my siblings died, and that was a close approximation to what I'm sure I'd feel. The thing about Martin is that he partly feels like Chris /has/ died in a way, because being together is such an integral part of their relationship that it hurts them both to be separated. Not only that, but he also feels responsible for Chris getting cursed/hurt in the first place. So having the solution right there but accessible is really painful.
> 
> Also, their wild magic lets them animal shapeshift when they want, and the curse is preventing Chris from doing it, so the brothers are feeling the loneliness twice as bad.
> 
> lol and y'all thought that I was only ever really mean to Chris. PSYCH I'm mean to both of the brothers. And this isn't the worst of what's to come.


End file.
